Chapter Four: The Wraith

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I stood up from my rocking chair and looked at my painting. I smiled a little at my work. You're getting good at it, Seraphine. I tied my hair in a bun, then started to paint again, stroking my flat brush to the canvas with a color of grass on it.

I am so happy. I'm getting good at painting and I'm getting good at ignoring him. No, not ignoring him. I just don't want to think about him but I admit that I still do. I just can't really help it.

A wonderful scenery was pictured on the canvas, I painted a breathtaking place with a familiar road that was filled with giant trees and a cliff on the left side of it, but I didn't want to emphasize it.

I don't know where I got this kind of idea, it just started to pop into my head these past few days. Somehow it looked familiar but I can't remember it. And I'm not even sure if I have really seen it somewhere before.

Looking at my piece, I checked the details that I just added. Alright, I can't stop smiling. I bit my lip and I inhaled deeply. Damian. I suddenly remembered Damian's expression as he looked me in the eye. Those looks. Telling me that I'm not a failure, that I can do it. I got inspired, probably because of him.

Images of him flashed in front of my eyes, twisting my stomach around. I want to see him. I wish I could spend more time with him. I wanted to continue the painting by putting small details, but I can't seem to focus.

I was too distracted by Damian. I decided to go to the museum; I just wanted to see him, even for a minute. I immediately took my paints and washed my paintbrushes. I removed the canvas carefully and folded the paint rack instantaneously. I walked over to my bedroom and changed to my usual loose white polo and black pants. I removed my hair to its bun and brushed it softly.

I'll be back before dinner.

I love you, Mom.

- Sera

Maybe I just missed his smiling face and his lovely eyes that send butterflies to my stomach and chest. I attached a sticky note to the fridge at the kitchen before I left so Mother will know that I'll be out. Yes, I'm going to the museum again. I wanted to talk to him even though I know that this would be difficult. I want to see him but I don't know why.

Meeting him was already impossible, I know that. No. I'm not going there just to see him. I wouldn't want to drive for miles just for him. No. Absolutely no. The artworks and photos inside that museum are the most important. Yes, that's what I need to see. Not him. I tried to convince myself that it was my main reason for going there, but I know the truth and I'm not going to admit it.

Hours had passed and I finally reached the Yellowstone Art Museum. It's very quiet and unusual. It's as if visitors are not allowed to enter the whole area. But I still manage to enter the place. The clanking of metals in the museum was the only sound that can be heard which breaks the peacefulness of the entire place.

A man in his thirties came walking towards me. He's carrying a painting that looks so ready to be disposed of, and then he stopped in front of me.

"Excuse me, Miss. You shouldn't be here. The museum is under renovation." He approached me, but I just nodded at him, certainly not really minding him.

That explains why this place is so quiet. I looked around me. He's right. Everyone's busy for making this place even more better, but my eyes were pinned to the familiar body shape of a young man wearing working clothes, baggy color cream pants, and a plain white shirt. He's standing on the ladder, putting the white color of paint on the ceiling. It's him.

"Please, you're not allowed here." The man in front of me repeated. His voice got louder this time that caught Damian's attention.

He saw me and seemed to freeze for a moment, frowning when he met my sight. Unaware, that I was here standing and looking at him.

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